Tee-rific
by Emmeebee
Summary: A collection of three drabbles for Little Tee. First: Hermione prepares to reunite with her parents. Second: Gilderoy intervenes when he stumbles across Mulciber attacking Mary. Third: After three months of dating, Regulus meets Pandora's daughter.
1. Home

The soft sand warms the soles of Hermione's feet as she strolls along Bondi Beach, her flip-flops dangling from her left hand. The beach is dotted with shells, washed-up seaweed, and half-finished sandcastles, and the sea that stretches out beside her is a striking tapestry of blues and greens. As she passes a group of children splashing around at the water's edge, she steps back into the cool water, smiling as the gentle waves brush against her ankles. A cool breeze blows past her, sifting through her hair and giving her relief from the heat of the summer sun, and her eyes drift closed as her feet still.

This midday walk has become something of a ritual for her. The month since she arrived in Sydney has been hectic and, at times, demoralising, but this routine has helped her pull through, relaxing and grounding her regardless of what else she might be going through at the time. It gives her a chance to be alone with her thoughts and to clear her head before returning to work once more. It's the only thing that keeps her steady in this search for answers that may not even exist.

Except now, for the first time, Hermione can definitively say that they _do_ exist. They do, and she has found them. This morning, after a year of experimentation and constant tweaking, her Memory Restoration Charm was finally approved by the Committee on Experimental Charms. Submitting the application was one of the hardest things she has ever done — the spell was like the first spark of a fire, so small and fragile that she was terrified that exposing it to the world might snuff it out. But instead of flickering out, it flared up, and now it's blazing bright in all its glory.

She has the answer. She has the approval. Now, all she needs to do is to drop in at her parents' dental practice and return their memories to them.

She knows that's easier said than done; life usually is. The path ahead will be a rocky one, filled with difficult conversations and confessions that she _really_ doesn't want to make. She will never regret her decision to keep her parents in the dark about Voldemort for so many years; if she didn't, they would have pulled her out of school in an instant, and the whole course of the war would have changed. But the freedom her lies gave her came with a price, and now it's time to face up to that.

Even so, she isn't worried. At the end of the day, they're her family. They may not be happy with her when they find out, but they will always be here for her, just as she will always be there for them.

And it's time to bring them home.

Hermione jogs back up the beach, weaving her way through groups of other beachgoers. Her feet sink into the sand with each step, but she doesn't let it slow her. Her mind is clear now, and she isn't willing to wait another minute.

Her footing grows firmer the further she goes until, finally, she reaches the point where sand meets cement. Slipping on her flip-flops, she doesn't even spare a glance for the view behind her as she makes her way back to her car.

She's ready.

It's time.

* * *

A/N: For Little Tee.


	2. The Kernel of Truth

A/N: Warning for attempted rape.

* * *

When he looks back at his youth, Gilderoy knows the exact moment that made him want to save people for the rest of his life. Whenever he tells the story, he does it with a flourish, embellishing it until the tale is just as fantastical as any in his books. Secretly, though, he thinks that the truth is more meaningful than any fiction he could weave.

It was in his sixth year, and he was walking back to the Ravenclaw common room after a long day spent cramming for his half-yearly exams when he came across a boy and a girl in a dark alcove. His first instinct was to roll his eyes and continue walking, assuming they were just another couple having a break from studying. But then he heard tell-tale signs of a struggle, and glancing over his shoulder, he could see how the boy was using his tall form to corner the girl.

Gilderoy's breathing faltered; there was no way he could overpower the boy in a fight. Yet before he knew it, his feet had stilled and were turning to carry him back towards them.

"I don't think she wants you to do that," he said. His words were steady even as he hid his hands in his robes to hide the way they were shaking.

"You don't know what she wants," the boy replied.

Gilderoy tried to peer around the boy, waiting for the girl to say something either way, but from the little he could see, she looked like she was shaking too hard to speak. "Maybe not, but I'm a prefect, and I want you to leave her alone."

The boy looked over his shoulder to fix him with an icy glare. "Stay out of it."

In that moment, Gilderoy recognised him, and a plan formed in his mind. He tried to appear as nonchalant as he could. "If you insist. But I heard that the next time you get into trouble, you'll be forced to sit out a Quidditch match. At this point in the season, your teammates would probably just replace you, wouldn't they?" He put on a sigh. "It would be a shame, really."

"You're lying," Mulciber said, turning towards him fully. "They wouldn't do that."

"That's what I heard." Gilderoy shrugged, keeping his voice calm despite the pounding of his heartbeat. "I could be wrong, but do you want to risk it?"

It took ten seconds for Mulciber to make a decision. In that time, Gilderoy ran through what he could do if Mulciber decided that he _did_ want to risk it.

The answer was 'very little'.

Fortunately, Mulciber simply scowled at him before shooting one last look at the girl in the alcove and storming away without another word.

"Thank you," the girl – Mary Macdonald, he realised, from Gryffindor – said once he was gone, starting to straighten her robes.

Gilderoy waved it off. "Did he hurt you?"

"How did you know that would work?" she asked instead of answering. "You're not a prefect. If he realises you lied…"

"People mistake me for Andrew all the time," Gilderoy said. It had always annoyed him, but for the first time, the fact that he resembled the older prefect was proving useful. "I just asked myself what he would do."

"Well, it was still brave of you." Mary hesitated before asking, "Can you walk me back to my common room? I don't want to be alone while he's out and about."

Gilderoy didn't, either, but he didn't want to admit that. Besides, it was safer for him to be alone right now than for her to. "Of course."

For the most part, they walked in silence, breaking it only for the occasional awkward comment. Once they reached Gryffindor Tower, she thanked him again before disappearing inside the portrait hole, and he strode as quickly as he could to his own common room.

By the end of the week, it felt like all anyone could talk about was how Gilderoy had swooped in at the last moment to save Mary from Mulciber. He could tell that Mary didn't like the attention, but he thrived in it. Being revered by his classmates, hearing his professors compliment him for his quick thinking, feeling people constantly watch him wherever he went – it was a heady feeling.

He chased it for the next few years like a photographer after a storm before realising that he would never be able to catch it again on his own. He was, it seemed, never quite clever enough or hardworking enough or well-positioned enough for that.

For a time, the sense of endless failure frustrated him. But then he remembered that he hadn't been any of those things the first time, either. The only reason he had been able to help Mary was because he had pretended to be someone else – to be Andrew.

 _If only I could pretend to be someone else all the time,_ he thought.

And that was when he got the idea of Obliviating people to steal their success. As much as he liked knowing that his actions had helped Mary, what he craved the most wasn't the sense of moral goodness; it was the praise – the adoration. And he could get that just as easily from stealing other people's achievements as he could by making his own.

By the time he realised that it wasn't the same, it was too late to start again. He had built up a persona, and there were certain expectations that came with that. He was as unable to change the past as he had been able to fight Mulciber that day in the alcove, as much as the regurgitated story might claim otherwise.

So that's why the older he gets, the tighter he clings to the memory of Mary's gratitude and his classmates' respect. It isn't as flashy or ostentatious as his other adventures, but it's the only one that's real. And that, he's finding, is more important than he first anticipated.


	3. First Hurdle

Regulus can tell that Pandora is nervous about introducing him to Luna. He understands; she has made it clear that her daughter will always come first. She hasn't said it outright, but he knows that if the girl doesn't like him, their relationship of three months will be over in as much time as it takes for Pandora to say she's sorry. He doesn't blame her. He wishes that they weren't facing this kind of test this early, but he understands.

That understanding is what drives him to go to the last person he wants to go to for help: Sirius. He doesn't like admitting weakness in front of his snarky brother, but the Auror has a godson about Luna's age, so he has experience with dealing with kids. After an evening of advice that ultimately boils down to, "Just be fun and remember that kids are smarter than you think," all he can do is hope that he's ready.

He doesn't have anything against kids; he would love children of his own someday. He just hasn't been around them much. None of his friends have had any yet, and while Narcissa has a son, Regulus hasn't spoken with her much since he decided not to join the Death Eaters. So all in all, he simply hasn't had the opportunity to spend time with them.

Now, however, that is going to change – if things go well, possibly permanently. As Pandora opens the front door and he follows her into her home, it feels as if his heart is in his throat.

It is messier than he expected, but he supposes he shouldn't be surprised. Between Pandora's haphazard way of looking at the world and the stress of being a single parent, it makes sense for the house to be disorganised. Sitting in the middle of the clutter is a young girl with dirty-blonde hair and silvery eyes. Yellow and blue markers are stacked in piles next to her, and she is leaning over a coloured gameboard with moving pieces.

She looks nothing like her mother, but when she looks up at him, he can see a curious sparkle that reminds him of Pandora.

"Luna," the woman in question says, sounding hesitant, "this is my friend, Regulus. I told you about him. He would like to stay for dinner if you are comfortable with that."

Luna turns those large eyes on him, and he wonders what she's seeing – how he looks to a six-year-old. After a moment, she says in a lilting voice, "That's alright. I'm not jealous."

He frowns and glances at Pandora, but she just smiles and says, "Of course not, sweetheart."

"Do you want to be blue?" she asks her mother, gesturing to the board game in front of her.

"I might sit this one out, but I'm sure Regulus would love to play if you asked him."

"Do you want to be blue?"

"I would love to." He sits across from her. "You'll have to explain how the game works, I'm afraid. It has been a while since I've played it."

"That's okay." Luna pushes the blue markers towards him and takes the yellow ones for herself. "I don't play it the way everyone else does."

Over the next few hours, Regulus comes to appreciate just how true that is. Luna isn't a normal child; it seems that she doesn't do anything the way that anyone else does. But after getting to know her mother, Regulus would have been disappointed if she were. He likes her, as perplexing as she may be, and she seems to like him well enough as well.

When Pandora sees him to the door later that night and tells him that she and Luna both enjoyed the evening, he can honestly say that he did as well.

And two years later, the day they get married and he signs the adoption papers, Luna is their flower girl, tossing daisies and radishes out into the crowd with a blinding beam on her face.


End file.
